


Reunion

by Katuary



Series: Rose and Thorn [10]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Family Reunions, Fluff and Angst, Major Character Injury, Post-Dragon Age: Origins Quest - The Battle of Denerim, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28145088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katuary/pseuds/Katuary
Summary: Elissa finally has a chance to rest after slaying the Archdemon. When she wakes, Alistair has a surprise visitor for her.
Relationships: Alistair/Female Cousland (Dragon Age), Female Cousland & Fergus Cousland
Series: Rose and Thorn [10]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1510469
Kudos: 15





	Reunion

When Elissa woke next, it was quieter and everything hurt substantially less. Her entire torso was stiff with bandages, and the air smelled strongly of lyrium, elfroot, and a dozen other herbs her mind couldn't name. She could effortlessly mix poisons to kill a person thirteen different ways, but healing concoctions had never been her specialty. Wynne had promised to teach her more than once, but Elissa had ultimately deemed it best to spread specialized skills across the group. Better to have experts like Wynne and Morrigan take care of those things than have a store of half-baked healing potions brewed by a novice.

Her stomach twisted. She couldn't remember seeing Morrigan after killing the archdemon. Perhaps her grand plan had spared Elissa and Alistair, but destroyed _her_ instead. 

Elissa planted her palms beneath her, but the softness of the blankets she rested upon had too much give to brace against. She slumped back to the pile of pillows at her head with an annoyed huff and pained hiss. 

"I wouldn't try that yet, dear." 

"Yes, Wynne." Elissa opened her eyes and scoffed. "I should have known better. I suppose I've earned my bed rest, after all."

That won her a tired chuckle. The creases near Wynne's eyes seemed deeper in the dull light of Elissa's sickroom. "I'm sure the people will clamor to see their hero soon enough. For now, just concern yourself with recovering." Wynne stood, lighting half the candles in a brazier near the door with her fingertips. "I'll retrieve Alistair. It was all I could do to convince the boy to get some sleep himself."

“Is he all right?”

“He’s perfectly fine,” Wynne assured her. “Sore and bruised, but nothing worse.” She chuckled. “I’d say ‘sick with worry’ is his primary ailment.”

Elissa smiled, careful to avoid laughter lest it jostle the web of bandages holding Wynne’s hard work in place. “Best relieve him of that symptom then. Sounds miserable.”

“Of course, dear. I’ll send him in.”

The healer was nearly out the door before Elissa called her back. “Wait. Is everyone else...”

Wynne closed the door behind her. “A few injuries here and there. Nothing life-threatening or permanent. Our little group was exceptionally lucky.”

The rest of the city had clearly not been so fortunate, particularly the civilians who had been under attack before the bulk of Elissa’s army arrived.

She wondered how difficult it would be to create a pension fund for the families who’d lost loved ones in the battle. Perhaps she could petition the Chantry, leverage her role in the Blight to loosen their hold on their coffers. Maker knew Ferelden would have little to spare once rebuilding efforts were underway. She took a deep breath.

All her and Alistair’s responsibility now. Or it would be soon enough.

Elissa nodded gravely. “I’ll be sure to send people to collect the names of those who lost their lives.”

Wynne’s eyes softened, flickering a deep sadness she likely thought Elissa couldn’t see. “Of course.”

The door shut behind Wynne, and Elissa was left briefly alone with her thoughts. 

Eamon would handle the initial aftermath, through the coronation. Distribute supplies, shelter the displaced in the chantry, send word of the Archdemon’s demise. He didn’t seem the sort to enjoy such direct power; Elissa had little fear he would draw out his stewardship.

After that, she would make sure he kept to his own affairs. Maker knew Eamon would be more than satisfied carving himself a place as Alistair’s advisor, and he had manipulated that relationship further than Elissa would tolerate. She could stand between them. She would help Alistair grow into the role she’d thrust upon him in his own right, not allow anyone to use him as a figurehead for his blood.

The door opened.

“Oh, thank the _Maker_.”

Alistair rushed across the room, practically skidding to a stop as he remembered her injury. Elissa laughed and winced.

“If the Archdemon itself can’t take me down,” she teased, “I doubt you stand a chance.” She extended her hand and he took it, laughing weakly.

“I doubt you’d be saying that if you’d seen yourself on the fort,” he said, shaking his head, “Seemed like half your armor filled with blood.”

She laughed again, near giddy with relief, “You should see the other guy.”

“Oh, no you don’t! If you steal all the witty one-liners, I’m only good for bad news.”

“I think we’ll learn to share.”

He leaned down to kiss her then, a too gentle and far too brief brushing of lips, before he pulled back and grinned.

"Actually, I get to be the bearer of _good_ news for once." He glanced over his shoulder at the door he'd left ajar, then back. "Are you feeling up for more visitors?"

Elissa raised an eyebrow. "Please don't tell me half of Ferelden is waiting outside. I doubt I'll say anything suitably rousing straight out of surgery."

"Nothing of the sort, I promise." His eyes sparkled with mischief. Her own narrowed and she shot back a wry smile.

“Alistair,” she warned, “I'm not above getting out of this bed and putting you in a headlock if you make me guess.”

“My lady, you _wound_ me. Would I do that?”

“Have you _met_ you?”

“Point taken.” He laughed again. “And you still haven’t answered my original question.”

She rolled her eyes and gave a decidedly unladylike snort. “Very well. I will tolerate _one_ surprise visitor. Then we sleep through next week.”

“Your wish is my command, of course.” He turned back toward the door, his grin widening ear to ear, “She’s ready to see you now.”

A muffled bark was Elissa’s only warning before Sunny bounded inside, tail wagging furiously. Elissa laughed and raised a hand for the mabari to burrow under.

”Very funny,” she said, scratching under the hound’s ears, “But I don’t think dogs count as visitors. Wynne probably kicked him out so she could work.” She rubbed her palm roughly over Sunny’s head and softened her voice to a coo, “Didn’t she, boy? Did that mean old healer make you wait with Alistair?”

"Actually, he was stuck with me."

Elissa's head whipped up so quickly her vision blurred. " _Fergus?"_

When blinking did nothing to clear her sight, she realized she was crying. Alistair leaned down to brush the tears from her cheeks and chuckled softly.

"I'll leave you two alone," he said, "I'm sure you have some catching up to do."

Alistair left the room, and Elissa huffed with surprised laughter at the sight of Fergus crossing his arms in salute as he passed. Her brother tossed her an amused look the moment the door clicked shut. 

"We had the same tutors growing up, Lissa," he chided lightly, "I believe that's still the correct way to acknowledge a king?"

"Is it?" Elissa laughed. "Damn. I've been doing that wrong for _months_."

Fergus snorted and sat carefully next to her on the bed. "I think protocol differs somewhat if you're the future Queen." He shook his head in clear disbelief. "My little sister...marrying the King. All I can think is what Mother would have said about that."

"It would have meant an automatic promotion to favorite child, clearly." The teasing smiles faded from both their faces, the humor broken by mention of their ghosts. Elissa inhaled unsteadily and took his hand. "Fergus...Oren and Oriana..." His hand gripped hers more tightly. "Mother and Father. _Everyone._ I'm..."

"Please don't apologize." Fergus shook his head. "None of it was your fault. You know that, right?"

"If I would have heard what was happening sooner..."

"Stop."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, and she gladly leaned into his chest. It was just like the cold nights when she'd fake nightmares as a toddler to have an excuse to sleep in her big brother's room. She had grown out of the habit long ago, but now, lying between the last two members of her family, with no obvious threat to fight, she felt small again. They stayed like that a long time, the quiet only broken by Sunny's panting breaths at her hip. Fergus sighed.

"I'm trying not to think too much about them," he admitted finally, "But that feels like forgetting."

Elissa nodded, staring distantly at a dent in the stone wall. "You want to remember them as they were. Before. Not..." Her stomach dropped when she realized just how long it had been since she had last thought of them. Maker, had it already been a year? _Only_ been a year? She swallowed. "Not in their last moments before being needlessly killed."

"Mother and Father went down fighting," he reminded her, "That wasn't in vain. They saved you." He laughed quietly. "And then you got away and saved the entire kingdom. They would have been so proud of you. I know I am." He rubbed her arm. "You've done good."

She wanted to say she had merely been in the right place at the right time, that she had gotten lucky. In some ways, that was true. In the rest, she couldn't be so naïve as to think _anyone_ in her position could have performed the same feats. She wasn't enough of a narcissist to believe she was the only person who could have stopped the Blight so quickly, but discounting her role was ridiculous.

Even so, she could never bring herself to reframe their parents' sacrifice as worthwhile simply because she had been a successful Warden. She shook her head.

"I couldn't have arrived at Ostagar much after you," she mused, "I tried to find you. I _should_ have tried harder after the battle."

He sighed. "I'm not sure you wouldn't have just been wasting your time, to be honest."

Exactly what Morrigan had said. Elissa ignored the pang in her chest and frowned, trying not to sound accusatory. "Where were you?"

"We were scouting in the Wilds," he began, "I never made it to the battle, which was probably fortunate. I would have been with the King's vanguard, behind the Wardens." He paused. "Or perhaps I would have managed to retreat with you."

She shook her head again. "Alistair and I were hardly in the proper battle. Duncan, the Warden-Commander..." Maker, she hadn't had the time to think of that. Who was the Fereldan Warden-Commander with Duncan dead? Would Weisshaupt send someone, with the only living Fereldan Wardens breaking tradition and accepting political power? Just how far could she stretch her fame from ending the Blight? Would it be enough to...

"I know it isn't easy to talk about." Fergus' gentle interruption was a welcome one, but he couldn't know the paths her mind marched down. Elissa shrugged.

"It's not that," she said shortly, "What I was saying was, Duncan ordered us to light a beacon to signal Loghain's forces to charge. The entire tower was filled with darkspawn. I suppose we were far enough removed from the main action that we weren't overwhelmed after Loghain retreated." It stretched the truth, but he would never believe that Flemeth had plucked them both from the tower after the battle.

"On the balance, perhaps being attacked by darkspawn on a scouting mission was the more survivable scenario."

Elissa looked over him sharply, searching his face for any tinge of gray, his eyes for any draining of color. "You weren't bitten, were you? Didn't get any of their blood in a wound?" 

"Didn't have much chance for any of that. Hurlock with a war hammer hit the back of my head when the ambush began. Fell like a sack of potatoes and woke up two weeks later in a Chasind hut hearing most of my men had been killed." His voice colored with frustration. "I was wounded. Too feverish to go anywhere. By the time I was able to sneak out of the Wilds, you were already marching to Denerim. I tried to get word to Highever. You can imagine what happened, I suppose."

"I can do better than imagine." She spoke the words without thinking, and firmly clenched her teeth afterwards, as if that would contain any further carelessness.

Fergus merely held her closer, still careful of her injuries. "Howe was a greedy, traitorous bastard," he said fiercely, "I just wish I'd been there to help you kill him."

"Me too." It was inadequate, but all she had. Justice had been served, and would be served further still when Amaranthine was given to a new liege lord, but Fergus hadn't even the bitter satisfaction of looking into the eyes of the man who murdered their family as he died. 

The quiet blossomed once more, but Fergus broke it with a soft chuckle.

"You know," he started, "Surprising as it was to see you leading an army to march on Denerim, I have to admit I was more surprised to find you _engaged_."

"Mother always said it was a matter of time." Elissa scoffed lightly. "It seems you two were already introduced?"

"Briefly." Fergus smirked. "I suppose I should give him the traditional telling off before he outranks me? Wouldn't want to be caught threatening our King."

She swatted his shoulder and snorted. "Behave yourself."

"Spoilsport."

She stuck her tongue out at him. He flicked her nose. 

"Be nice to me," she scolded, brushing his hand away and laughing, "I'm injured." 

"All right, all right!" he relented, "I suppose he does seem like the decent sort. And I suppose since _you'll_ outrank me soon enough, I shouldn't keep needling you."

"Soon enough." Elissa scoffed again. "I wish we could get away with simply eloping. I'd be perfectly happy marrying him in a bog. It's bound to be _months_ before they have a suitably royal celebration prepared."

"You'd invite me, of course."

"To the hypothetical bog of elopement?" Elissa waved her hand. "Obviously. Bring good boots."

**Author's Note:**

> No lie, the first time I played Origins and saw that Fergus survived, I almost cried. She still had someone from her family left! Since the conversation at the coronation was pretty lighthearted, I figured they must have been reunited earlier with all the required hugging and tears (and teasing of course).


End file.
